


We Only Do It For The Scars And Stories

by lowermiddlechild



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Adventure, Bank Robbery, M/M, Robbery, bonnie and clyde au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 16:25:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10643658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lowermiddlechild/pseuds/lowermiddlechild
Summary: Hanamaki is bored with his life working at a diner in the town he grew up in and it takes a little encouragement from the stranger in town to make Makki take the leap into adventure.





	

**Author's Note:**

> hello! im excited that you're reading this because i suck at summaries. This is my piece for the matsuhana fanzine which you can see here: https://twitter.com/MatsuHanaZine
> 
> hope you enjoy!

“You really like it here?” Matsukawa asked over the noise of the diner. Hanamaki refilled his coffee and propped a hand on his hip. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It seems… boring,” Matsukawa waved his hand, causing Hanamaki to look around at the diner. He’d worked here for the past nine years, knew everything that happened in these faded white walls with the red trim, knew all of the regular customers and their orders, knew all of the recipes for the pies they served every week. Hanamaki was safe here, comfortable here. The diner, and this town, had always been his safety net. He’d lived in this small town his whole life, grown up in a house down the street, gone to high school a mile down the road. Sure, he’d thought of leaving, going out and having an adventure, but he’d never actually thought it would happen. This place was his home.

“It’s not boring,” he said with a laugh, “Why, just last week Kindaichi was in here tryin’ to chat up a real cute kid at the counter and got an entire milkshake spilled on his pointy little head.” 

“Wow,” Matsukawa deadpanned. “You sure proved me wrong.”

Hanamaki shrugged it off, putting it out of his mind as he swept around to the rest of his tables. The chef started yelling at him for something stupid and then the dinner rush picked up and Hanamaki didn’t have time to stop by and chat with Matsukawa again before he left, though if the generous tip and scribbled down phone number were anything to go by, Hanamaki figured he’d see him again.

Walking back to his small apartment just a few streets over from the diner Hanamaki messed with the scrap paper in his pocket. Matsukawa had only been in town for about a month, not a particularly long time, but he’d come into the diner nearly every day that he’d been there. They didn’t get a lot of newcomers in Oak Grove and even fewer that openly flirted with another man. Hanamaki blushed for a second, thinking about the phone number burning a hole in his pocket but he quickly shook himself out of those thoughts and into more rational ones. For all the times he and Matsukawa had talked, he still knew next to nothing about him.

Holding back a sigh, he refused to be as dramatic as Oikawa, he climbed the stairs to his apartment and let himself in his front door. It wasn’t a large apartment, just a small studio apartment with just enough room for one person. He didn’t own a bed, just an old couch he’d gotten for free, and the walls were decorated with faded photograph from high school. His old group of friends had always talked about getting out of this small town and going out into the world in search of a more exciting life. In the end only one of them, Iwaizumi, had actually done it. Hanamaki still remembered the day he left; he’d been sad that his friend was leaving, of course, but he’d also been so jealous. Hanamaki had never really done much. He’d moved out straight after graduation but he’d just kept working at the diner.

Hanamaki toed off his shoes and hung up his coat, before he made his way over to the couch a collapsed on it. Waiting tables meant a lot of running back and forth and the effort of pretending his feet weren't killing him was exhausting. The chef had been all over his case today because, apparently, everything that went wrong at the restaurant was Hanamaki’s fault. Hanamaki settled into the couch cushions, pulling a blanket half over his legs before he drifted off to sleep.

He woke up suddenly to the sound of his phone ringing, and blearily looked around his living room. The clock on the wall told him that it was well past 10am and he glared at it for a moment before reaching out and grabbing the phone receiver, it’s cord stretching out to it’s max length as he fell back into the couch.

“Hello?” He mumbled.

“You sound like you’re still asleep,” the voice on the other end said with a chuckle. 

“Who is this?” Hanamaki said, starting to wake up a bit more.

“You know, I thought leaving my number on the table was a smooth move but before I could get halfway down the block some crazy waiter ran up to me and said it would never work,” the voice continued.

“Some crazy waiter? Who, wait, Oikawa?” Hanamaki asked, concern coating his voice. 

“Sure, anyway, guy runs up to me, tells me you’d never call, and hands me a receipt with a phone number on the back. Wacky, right?”

“Wacky…” Hanamaki repeated, finally realizing who was on the other line.

“So listen, I’ve got a job I could use a little help with. Want to join in?” Matsukawa asked.

“A job?” This was not what Hanamaki imagined this call would turn into. He’d kind of thought a call from Matsukawa would lead to something more like a date than a job.

Matsukawa laughed on the other line. “Don’t sound so disappointed; I think you’ll like it. Add a little spice to your life. What do you say?”

Hanamaki thought about it for a second before shrugging his shoulders and replying, “Well, it’s not like I had anything better to do today.”

“Great! Pick you up at the corner of Cherry and 2nd at 4. Wear something dark and sexy,” with that the line went dead and Hanamaki was left wondering what the hell he’d gotten himself into.

A few hours later saw Hanamaki standing on the corner trying his best not to feel self conscious, but when Oikawa had heard he was going somewhere with Matsukawa, he’d rushed over, and forced Hanamaki to change out of the jeans and t shirt he’d been wearing. Now a black turtleneck circled his collar and the tight dark jeans hugged his hips in a way he wasn’t sure about, but Oikawa had insisted it would bring out the color in his eyes and make his pale pink hair stand out even more.

A black truck pulled up to the curb and Hanamaki saw Matsukawa wave from the driver seat. He hopped into the car, clicking in his seatbelt and turning to Matsukawa. 

“So what kind of job is this?”

Matsukawa ignored his question. “You look nice. I’m diggin the dark look.”

“Thanks,” Hanamaki said, pulling out a smirk.

“You’re just missing one thing,” Matsukawa said, pulling into a bank parking lot. Hanamaki raised an eyebrow, but before he could ask what he was missing Matsukawa reached into the back and pulled out a long black bag. 

“What are you…” Hanamaki’s eyes grew wide and he cut off mid sentence as Matsukawa pulled a shotgun out of the bag.

“Here’s the deal,” Matsukawa started, looking Hanamaki directly in his eyes. “You have one chance to back out of this. You can get out of the car and calmly walk away. Go back to your boring little life with your tiny apartment and country diner, waiting tables until you’re 70 years old and your hair’s grey instead of pink. Or you can come with me and get the adventure you’ve been craving. You can live life on the edge and find out what it means to be free.” He held out the gun. “What do you say?”

Hanamaki eyed the weapon, weighing his choices. This was crazy, absolutely insane, but yet…. He thought of the diner and the obnoxious chef, he thought of his apartment, too small to fit a full sized bed so he slept on the couch. Finally, he pictured himself ten years from and realized that the only change was his wrinkles.

He took the gun and said, “I feel like I’m in a movie.”

Matsukawa smiled a lazy smile and leaned in. “Good, because I stole that speech from the action movie I watched last night. Here’s the plan: you let me do the talking on this one and if you have to shoot, aim for the legs. I ain’t out to kill anyone.” Hanamaki nodded. “Follow me, and stand tall.”

He opened the door and got out, turning around to pull another gun from the bag. Matsukawa paused for a second and looked up at Hanamaki suddenly. “You do know how to shoot a gun, right?”

“Of course I do,” Hanamaki snapped, trying to keep his nerves in check, “I grew up in the South, didn’t I?”

Matsukawa only laughed, “Oh, Makki. This is gonna be fun.”

Hanamaki followed the other man as he made his way into the bank, a lazy smile on his face that Hanamaki tried to match. His heart was racing and he felt vaguely like he was going to throw up but his legs didn’t shake as he walked and his hands on the gun never faltered.

It felt like a dream, quick and over so fast he didn’t even register what had happened. One second Matsukawa had marched into the bank, shouting out his demands, and the next second they were running back to the car, Matsukawa’s arms stuffed with cash bags while Hanamaki held the guns.

Before he knew it they were back on the road speeding through town, windows cranked down and the wind pushing his hair back. He felt the adrenaline pumping through his veins and he couldn’t stop grinning if he tried. 

“Where’re we going?” Hanamaki shouted over the noise.

“Where do you live?” Matsukawa hollered back. Hanamaki quickly gave directions and minutes later they pulled into the apartment parking lot. “Grab what you need and let’s get out of here.”

Hanamaki nodded, crazy smile still plastered on his face. He laughed a little and turned to get out of the car when Matsukawa, grabbed his arm. He turned back to see what he wanted and was met with a pair of lips on his own in a searing kiss. He pushed back, but it ended all too soon. Matsukawa pulled away, lazy grin seeming a little more triumphant.

This was crazy, honestly the most insane thing he’d ever done, but with the adrenaline pumping through his veins from both the heist and kiss Hanamaki didn’t care. For the first time in a long time he really felt alive, like his whole life had been waiting for this moment, waiting to go on an adventure. Hanamaki smiled back at Matsukawa and it was the most genuine smile he’d ever produced. Matsukawa’s face changed from calm and casual to deeply shocked and he then pulled out a happy smile of his own. Hanamaki laughed and pulled away, running up to his apartment to grab his things. He stuffed a bag full of clothes and his toothbrush and slung it over his shoulder, ready to leave, but he paused, looking around the room one more time. 

His old high school photos seemed to be looking back at him and his grin widened. It seemed like he was finally getting the exciting life he’d always wanted.


End file.
